The Gathering Night Read Online Free Page B

seem to care at all about me, or my baby. I even thought that if I died giving birth she’d be sorry she’d neglected me.
    But I didn’t die, and after Esti was born everything else began to happen. Once I had Esti I didn’t feel sorry for myself any more. Now, when I think about my feelings that winter, I feel ashamed.
    One day in Dark Moon we’d been sitting in the house all morning, close to the fire, while gusts of rain flung themselves against our turf walls. We were passing round a hunk of dried boar meat, slicing off bits with our knives and chewing them slowly. Sometimes, when the meat came round to him, Amets would slice off a particularly meaty bit and toss it over to me. There are some good things about being pregnant! We had plenty of food, so there was no need to go out before the weather cleared. It was about midday when my mother stood up abruptly, took down her foxfur cloak and pulled it tight round her shoulders. Then she lifted the skins that hung down over the doorway and stepped outside.
    â€˜Where’s she going now ?’
    I shrugged. I could no more answer Amets’ question than he could. ‘Father,’ I said, ‘it’ll be dark soon. Shouldn’t you stop her?’
    â€˜ Stop her?’ He was outraged. ‘Alaia, you’re speaking of your mother! Have you no respect?’
    â€˜But you could!’
    â€˜I? Why would I interfere? For what reason?’
    â€˜The weather . . . If she stays out she could die!’
    â€˜True,’ said my father. He stared into the fire, still absentmindedly rolling twine against his thigh. A log fell sideways, and small flames began to crackle. My father sighed. He hadn’t mentioned his son’s name since Bakar left us. Perhaps he’d been certain from the beginning that my brother’s name had already left this world. And yet my father wasn’t known among our People for understanding hidden things. He liked everything to be clear and plain. But I knew him, and I privately thought he noticed more than my mother did. My father had never gone to look for his son. He’d never referred to Bakar’s absence. Bakar was a grown man. Soon he’d have married and left our family anyway. He was free to go where he wished and also, if that’s where his path led, free to die without asking permission.
    It worried me that my father would let my mother go just as easily. But when my father withdrew from the talk and stared into the fire like that, there was nothing more I could say. I met Haizea’s eyes and saw fear in them. She was only a child. I put my arm round her. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going away and nor is Amets. And you know our father will never leave us.’
    Haizea whispered, ‘He might not be able to help it, one day.’
    It was true that our father was getting old. He was older than our mother. I knew what Haizea was thinking. Even as I put my arm round my little sister I felt the baby kicking inside me. My baby was reminding me that I couldn’t make promises either because I mightn’t be able to keep them. There’s always danger, and mine was growing very close.
    Suddenly I jumped to my feet. I shouted at my father: ‘My mother has no right to do this! Just because Bakar’s gone’ – I was so angry I would name him as if he were a living man – ‘she’s no right to inflict her misery on us! We’re all sorry! We all miss him! You must be angry with her, Father! You should be! Oh yes, you should be! She makes it seem like you don’t care. That you’ve not lost your son. Oh no, you’re not to have lost your son, and I haven’t lost my brother, and Haizea hasn’t lost hers! None of the rest of us is supposed to feel anything ! She makes it seem like we don’t care, just because we go on living. She ought to care about us ! Supposing I die – because I might – I might easily –